Ripples in the Pond
by Willowstar23
Summary: "You can't remember the last time you saw your son. You tell yourself that there's a war on, that you have more important things to worry about than your wayward son, but you don't. It's almost all you can think about. What happened to him?" What happened when Harry's twin became the 'The Boy Who Lived' and his parents didn't die. What became of him? Lilly pov. Non-bwl! Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry potter.**

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><p>I can't remember the last time I saw my son. I tell myself that there's a war on, that I have more important things to worry about than my wayward son, but I don't. It's almost all I can think about. The guilt of not knowing is practically eating me alive.<p>

I promised myself right from the very moment Dumbledore announced Charlie the 'Boy-Who-Lived' that I would always treat my sons fairly, that I would never value one over the other. But it hasn't really worked out like that has it? Somewhere along the way I got sidetracked, I lost my way. I'm so far off the proverbial path I don't even know which way to go, I don't know where to look, I don't have any idea where he could be.

I started off okay, brilliant even. The twins weren't the best of friends, but they were close. I closed them off from the magical society but still taught them about magic. They both had muggle friends but the only person that they could talk to about magic that was their age was each other. I thought their relationship would last, stand the test of time, brothers in arms. I should've known better. Things don't always work out like that, look at me and petunia, we were once so close and now she loathes my very existence.

It's Hogwarts that made it worse I think. When they were being reintroduced back into the wizarding world everyone went crazy for Charlie, the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Harry didn't want to go to Hogwarts. He wanted people to be his friend because they liked him, not because they liked his brother. I remember James throwing a fit of _epic_ proportions. He refused straight away, he couldn't see the problem "you'll make your own friends Harry, it's alright that you didn't save the world, nobody blames you we love both just as much." I knew then that even though James wasn't trying to be mean, he sounded condescending, like Charlie was better. 'We don't blame you' as if there was something Harry failed at.

I understood though. I supported him when he showed James the acceptance letter from Durmstrang. I hadn't known he'd gone behind our backs. I know why he did it though, and maybe if I was in his situation I would have done the same. James had a hard enough time accepting that Harry didn't want to Hogwarts, never mind that he wanted to attend Durmstrang, well know for it's dark arts. I'm sure that if Harry had told James about his plans before getting an acceptance letter, James would have stopped him from writing any sort of letter at all. No body could could really accept his reasons except for me, and in the end it was me that managed to persuade a very reluctant James to allow Harry to attend. I'm glad I did.

James seems worried about Harry, but not worried enough. Not like a father should be I think. He should be tossing and turning in his sleep with worry just like I am. He should come home late from work tired and exhausted and not wanting to look at me for fear of my disappointment that he hasn't found any leads, or any _useful_ ones at least. He should want to find Harry as badly as I do. I know it would be different if it was Charlie. If he even goes missing for a few hours James calls a huge search party involving at least five aurors and the majority of the order.

I can't help but feel a sliver of resentment worm it way in to my heart. It coils around me like a snake and squeezes. I feel angry, frustrated. I'm angry at my husband because he doesn't seem to try, he doesn't seem to want to remember he has two sons, he seems content with forgetting that I gave birth to twins, everyone does. Even me.

Everyone; James, Charlie, Dumbledore, even sensible logical Remus doesn't seem to bothered, "you know Harry Lilly, he's always been independent, he'll come back." Most of all though I'm angry at myself, how could I not notice, I'm his mother for Morgana's sake! I should know these things. I was supposed to protect him.

I realise I can't remember things about him anymore, what his voice sounds like or sometimes his face. It usually happens when I'm dreaming. There's James and Charlie and Remus and Sirius and then there's this figure standing nearby, always on the outside looking in. His face is always smudged, a blur of indistinguishable features. By the time I realise this is Harry he's usually disappeared and I wake up panicked and gasping. I rush to the mantel where his picture is held and just drink in his image. I clutch the photo to my chest, just to assure myself that he's real, that he exists.

I want to hold him in my arms like I did when he was a baby and then later on when he was a young boy. I would sit in the library on the huge cushioned window seat with him for hours on end, his head in my lap as I stroked his hair and read to him. It was always his favourite place in the house. He was always such a smart child, always wanting to know more.

Sometimes I go to his room and bury my face in his pillows. Even though the houselves have washed and changed them many times since he last slept in them, I like to imagine that his scent still clings to the sheets.

He'd be twenty now, not a little boy anymore, only just a bit younger than I was when he was conceived. He could be married I think suddenly. I was at that age, I'd even had my first anniversary. Charlie hasn't even had his first kiss yet. If he had, I would know. James likes to brag about 'his boy' I think with a slight bitterness. But Harry though, Harry is well past the stage of a first kiss I muse. I hadn't meant to snoop in his room but I'd been cleaning up and stumbled across it, a stash of playwizards, muggle condoms and the magical version of the karma sutra. The writing may have been in german but the moving pictures gave it away. My little boy grew up and I missed it.

Harry could have his own family by now and I linger on that thought wistfully. I want to know what happened to him, what he's doing, if he's okay. I always knew that Charlie wanted to be an auror. He likes being the hero too much, too jumped up on stories James used tell him as a child. He wants to be just like his father, and he is in most respects, just as arrogant as James was at his age, just as stubborn and prejudiced. Harry though, never said and I can't remember ever asking. This thought brings on another round of tears. I remember even strangers asking me when I was a child what I wanted to be when I grew up. How can I not have asked my son, not even once?

The growing tensions of war make me nervous that I'll never see him again. Sometimes when I'm in a particularly dark mood I entertain the idea that he might already be dead. It breaks my heart. The war at the moment is all guerrilla warfare. Kidnappings and raids, people can't deny that there's a silent war going on in wizarding Britain. It's only a matter of time before it becomes outright warfare with battles on the streets. It'll only take a spark, things are wound so tightly.

It's been like this for a while, ever since the triwizard tournament when Charlie was in his sixth year. It took a long while for people to accept the truth, when the violence in the newspapers became too hard to ignore. They went from slandering Charlie at every chance them could get to nodding their heads in respect as he passed. People don't want to state sides out loud. The people who do never speak again. The light side has the silent support of the population but nothing more. I want to think that they're cowards, but I remember wanting the same. After the twins were born I'd begged James to move country's, to get away from it all. He'd said no, so we'd stayed.

I tried to put up missing posters in the shops, the shop keepers were all happy to help until they learnt it had nothing to do with Charlie. They were still polite, wanting me to put in a good word for them to Charlie, but they wouldn't let me hang them up in the windows. They said they'd keep a look out for him, but I really doubt they will. It angers me that they only care about Charlie and not Harry, but really I've only got myself to blame. If I'd have cared about Harry as much as Charlie I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

Would I?

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><p><strong>This is a mulitichapter story. Updates will be every couple of days<strong>. **Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter.**

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><p>I'm sitting at the kitchen table staring out of the window, it's raining. The view to the outside is almost completely obscured by the rivulets of water running down the glass pane. There's going to be a storm later.<p>

The weather reminds me of Harry and the longing in my chest flares up again to the point of pain. When the twins were younger, Charlie would always run in to my room to sleep with me and James at the first crackle of thunder or flash of lightning. Harry though, loved it. I would sleepily pad down the corridor to Harry's room to check on him when Charlie woke me up and I would always find him, face pressed up against the glass, eyes wide with fascination.

"Just five more minutes mummy" he would say when I tried to tuck him back in to bed. "Just five more minutes." I'd sit at the window seat with him watching the storm outside and five minutes would turn into ten and then fifteen until eventually Harry fell asleep, head against the glass, feet in my lap.

I never really understood why he loved thunderstorms so much. I suppose they're pretty, but Harry liked the storms even when he couldn't see the lightning. I eventually put it off as one of his little quirks and left it alone. Now though, I really wish I knew, perhaps it would make him seem a little closer, not quite so absent.

My deep sigh is ignored by my husband and remaining son, in favour of their loud and enthusiastic conversation about quiditch, or they were talking about quiditch but now they're talking about brooms or something equally boyish and dangerous. I can't remember and don't care to find out.

I pick at the eggs on my plate. I'm not hungry but the houselves' threatened to tell James if I don't eat. Meddlesome little buggers I think, although I'm secretly glad someone cares about me, even if they aren't human.

I'm pulled out of my melancholy thoughts by a tapping on the window. A huge dark regal looking owl has landed on the window sill, tapping its beak against the glass. A thick scroll is tied to its foot. Charlie leaps up to let it in and it lands gracefully on the table. Charlie quickly liberates the owl of its letter and pushes his leftover bacon towards it.

"Er... it's for you."

He quickly hands me the letter and helps him self to some more toast.

The parchment is completely dry beneath my fingers, despite the rain outside and I think that at least someone has some sense in the magical world, it's awful getting a soggy letter that breaks apart and smudges as you try to read it.

'Mrs Potter' is written in an elegant script on the side and the puddle of black wax keeping the letter closed with the Durmstrang crest pushed in to it identifies the sender. I had sent a letter to the headmaster a few weeks previous to see if he had any student records of Harry or if he knew how to contact him or any of his friends. I'd begun to lose hope that he would reply.

I eagerly unseal the letter and begin to read.

_Dear Mrs Potter,_

_I must say I was surprised at your letter and must apologise for taking a while to reply but things have been quite swamped recently, I'm very busy you know. I must admit I did not know your son very well, as I didn't teach him and only became headmaster after he graduated, after Karakoffs death. People do talk however, so I did know, as I'm sure you do, that he was a very bright student, the brightest we've had in years in fact. You must have been very proud of him graduating a year early and with a mastery as well._

I stop at this and open my mouth in shock. I hadn't known he'd graduated early. Why didn't he tell me? James and I both would have invited everyone around to celebrate the occasion. And a mastery? I knew he was bright, but even James and I didn't have masteries. They often took two or three years after Hogwarts to complete and were usually so demanding that most people didn't bother. Perhaps the norm was different in mainland Europe.

Despite the hurt I feel at his omittance of his accomplishments, I can't help but feel my whole body swell with pride. My clever little boy, my smart little baby.

_I noticed your absence at the graduating ceremony and was slightly concerned until Harry told me that you were ill and unable to make it to the event. I certainly hope you are feeling better._

'What?' I think incredulously. What illness, I wasn't sick. Even if I was I would have dragged myself there even if it'd killed me! Why would he not tell me? I would have gone, the ceremony was in June, I didn't have anything... Oh, the triwizard tournament ... Charlie.

He must've thought we were too busy with Charlie to bother to come. The thought makes my eyes water and my heart clench. My poor baby, no wonder he disappeared without telling me where he went. He must think that I don't care, that I don't love him.

The words on the page blur and I blink away my tears, determined to finish the letter before breaking down.

_I included a spare copy of his achievements while at the school as it appears to be the only sort of files we have on him._

Name: Harry James Potter

Date of birth: 31/10/80

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><p><strong><span>O.W.L.S<span>**

~ Sat June 1993

Spell Crafting O*

~ Sat June 1994

Ancient Runes O

Arithmancy O

Care of Magical Creatures O

Charms O

Dark Arts O

Herbology EE

History EE

Politics O

Potions O

Transfiguration O-

**N.E.W.T.S**

~ Sat June 1994

Spell Crafting O

~ Sat June 1996

Ancient Runes EE

Arithmancy O

Charms O

Healing O

Potions O

**Mastery**

~ Completed June 1996

Spell crafting

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><p><em>I'm sure you'll notice that he took his spell crafting O.W.L two years early and his N.E.W.T at the same time as his other O. .<em>

_Unfortunately I don't have any contact details for Harry, except your own adress however Harry was close to his charms professor Herr Rosenburg and probably left the professor a way to contact him, although the professor unfortunately retired from the school a couple of years after your son left and he didn't provide a forwarding address._

_In regards to Harry's friends, he was very close to a girl in his year and a couple of boys from the older years took him under their wings, but I'm afraid I can't give out names due to the student confidentiality agreement. If you know which young witch and wizards I'm talking about though, I urge you to contact them incase they can get in contact with Harry._

_I'm very sorry I couldn't really give you anything of help but I'm glad to say that if you have any other children they would be very welcome here at Durmstrang._

_Best regards_

_Dimitri Polanski_

My heart sinks and the letter crumples in my hand, the thick parchment digging in to my palms. I thought they might've had at least _something_.

"What's wrong love, bad news?"

"No, nothing" I reply dejectedly, holding in the tears.

"Not a damn thing."

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><p><strong>Herr - Mr  Sir**


	3. Chapter 3

AN. Sorry this took so long guys.

**There will only be 3 chapters in this story that will be in a different POV to Lilly, this is necessary for the story.**

Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter.

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><p><strong>~ James<strong>

There is an order meeting at my house and I'm happy to have them here. It makes me feel special, that Dumbledore acknowledges that I'm a major player in this war and that I'm important. Not everyone's here yet, but the ones who are mill about the dining room in small clusters, drinking cups of tea and coffee that the houselves provided.

I look around for Sirius. He's usually late, but today he arrived early. I was too busy welcoming the order to chat with him before, but now that Dumbledores here he will most likely shuffle everyone into the dining room ready for the meeting. Great guy Dumbledore I think, great guy.

After I check all of Sirius's usual haunts and find them empty, I start to check all the cupboards and quiet rooms I can think of. I half expect to find him in a compromising situation with one of the younger female order members. I grin slyly, 'the old dog' I think and laugh for the permanent womanising bachelor.

I chuckle as I remember the good old days of pranking and girls and alcohol and sex and trying to use my boyish charms on Rosmerta at the three broomsticks. Ah well, never mind, I have Lily and Charlie now and that's all that really matters.

When I've checked everywhere I can think of, I didn't think to ask the houselves to locate him, I head back to the main event, thinking that he'll have to turn up eventually. Surprisingly though, as I pass through the kitchen I spot him over in the corner, almost swallowed by the shadows of the quiet space. He has a frown on his face and although I don't know what caused it, I don't think it can be anything good and my auror side raises it's hackles.

I don't make any outward change, trying not to alert anyone but my eyes scan the crowd looking for any abnormalities, anything suspicious. This wouldn't be the first time that an order meeting has been infiltrated by dirty dark slytherin pure blood death eaters. I cast my mind back to that particular event and shudder at the image my brain provides.

Dumbledore had been very insistent that he wasn't like the dark lord and didn't want to brand his followers or hold them to any magical vows. He maintained that everyone was part of the order of their volition and could leave whenever they wanted. He didn't hold them to anything. This has caused problems in our fight against the dark and is perhaps one of the only times I've disagreed with Dumbledore, only in my head of course, Dumbledore knows best and if he says that that isn't the way to go, then that isn't the way to go. Great man Dumbledore I think, great man. Poor sod Benjy Fenwick though.

When I see nothing that immediately jumps out at me, I warily make my way over towards Sirius making no change in my care-free gait, but gripping my wand tighter in my clammy hand.

"See anything?" I say trying to ask casually, so that anyone in hearing distance won't be tipped off to what I'm talking about.

"Oh, no, nothing like that." He waves his hand trying to dispel my worries. I relax but make one last sweep of the room with my eyes before holstering my wand.

I turn back to Sirius "why are you all the way out here then?"

"Oh just peace and quiet." He says distractedly, still frowning.

I stare at my friend in disbelief. _Sirius_, peace and quiet? SIRIUS? I look at him strangely. It must be a warm day in hell as the muggle saying goes... I think. Lily's said it several times in the years we've been married, but I can never remember much about what she says about the muggle world. It's not like it's really important anyway, I don't live in the muggle world and I never will.

"Actually there _is_ something..." My eyes scan the crowd again, my body alert.

"... I think there's something wrong with Lily."

"Oh" I deflate, "I thought it was something serious"

"I am serious."

"Yeah" I laugh, "seriously Sirius."

"No I mean it this time James, I think there's something wrong with Lily."

"Like what?" I frown confused.

"I don't know," he shrugs, "she seems ... Withdrawn, pale, nervous."

"Huh."

"Do you think maybe, ... Do you think..."

"Spit it out!"

He huffs at my interruption " do that maybe, well that she's maybe having an _affair_?"

I gape at my best friend unable to believe the words that just came out of his mouth.

"Lily? ... As in my Lily?"

He rolls his eyes "yes your Lily, how many other Lily's do you know?"

I pretend to think it over for a while. "Well there was that girl one time in-"

"Shove off you Prat you know exactly what I mean."

I look to my wife who is across the kitchen with Molly Weasley and a couple of other older order members. She's sitting at the table at nodding to whoever is speaking, but I can tell that she's not really listening. I know that my wife's been down recently over Harry, but there's nothing I can do about it. I don't know where he is and that's that. I really wish she would get over it already, there's a war on and I'd really appreciate it if she paid more attention to Charlie who deserves it.

I sigh and turn back to Sirius "Nah, it's not that."

"Besides, who would she have an affair with, _Snape_?"

Sirius cracks up and we both go back to being best friends who's only worries are catching dirty dark slytherin pure blood death eaters and giving them what they deserve.

The order meeting goes the same as usual, nobody has seen anything suspicious but they all promise to keep an eye out. Dumbledore asks Remus to go undercover in a colony in Australia and test the waters to see if they would be prepared to stay out of the war or maybe even fight for the light. Bill is also given a mission of trying to persuade the goblins to have order members posted around the bank in hopes to prevent any attacks. The goblins so far have been very uncooperative and have been determined to stay neutral. Nasty little buggers.

Just as the meeting is wrapping up, Dumbledore asks if anyone has any more they have to add when Lily speaks up.

"Have you heard any more about Harry?" She asks worriedly.

Dumbledore sighs "No my dear, I have not. Now if there's anything else-"

Lily stands up from her seat. "But you said you would try, you said that-"

"Lily!" I hiss.

Everyone is looking at us and this is starting to get embarrassing.

"Just leave it! We've been over this Lily, I told you he'll provably just turn up, I mean-"

"Don't you listen to anything?"

"Lily! This is not the time." I turn towards the rest of the order. "Sorry about this if you could kindly make your way to-"

"That's _it_! That's all you're going to say, going _to do_!"

I sigh turning back to her, " I don't know that you want me to do Lily, I don't know what you want!" I start to get angry, this has gone on long enough. I motion for the guests to make their way out of the dining room.

"You don't know what I want,_ you don't know what I want_! I want our son James! I want _our son_!"

I notice the tears running down her face and she falls to her knees sobbing.

"I just want my son, I just want my son."


	4. Chapter 3 Continued

A.N So this is it, the fourth chapter. A huge thanks to everyone that voted and I have to say that adding up the votes from the poll and the reviews only made it so that there was only a one vote difference, so very very close. 1st person was the winner though, even if only by a small margin and this fic has changed from second person pov to first. It took ages to change everything and I felt like I butchered my story changing from second to first, but I hope you enjoy the story still and carry on following it.

- Willowstar23

Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry potter.

_**This chapter is a continuation of the last one.**_

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><p><strong>(Previously)<strong> **~ James**

"You don't know what I want,_ you don't know what I want_! I want our son James! I want _our son_!"

I notice the tears running down her face and she falls to her knees sobbing.

"I just want my son, I just want my son."

/

**~ Severus**

I look at the woman I used to love, still do love. She's crumpled on the floor, she looks tired, desperate. I knew he would destroy her, I always said he was no good. I desperately want to take pleasure out of being right, but for once I wish I was wrong. My best friend and love is hurting. I want to make it stop but I don't know how. I don't know her anymore, she's a stranger, this woman that wears Lily's skin.

Her hair is just as long, just as red, just as shiny. Her skin is just as pale as I remember and I know it's probably just as soft. Her nose still holds 7 freckles and her cheeks 14 more. The wrinkles on her forehead though and the deep purple bags under her eyes are foreign. I want to wipe them away with my bony potion stained fingers and return her back to how I remember her once being.

My toes twitch as if to go to her, to hold her like I did when I was younger, back in the time when she came to me with all her problems and not Potter. I know it would not be tolerated though, not in this house by Potter or by Lilly. I hold my ground, watching the scene play out.

"Why don't you care, you would if it were Charlie. "

"We promised that we'd treat them just the same, but you don't and you never did. Even when they were little, you always chose Charlie over Harry."

"It's was always Charlie this and Charlie that and nothing's changed."

"I get it I do, he's living the life you wanted. Being the hero, charging in to battle. You're living through him."

"I thought you'd grow up, I thought it would be okay. You're not the man I married or maybe you are and I just couldn't see it back then."

"I think you were the man I needed at the time, but you're not the man I need now."

My eyes twitch in shock. Is this what I think it is, is she leaving him? 'No' I suddenly think, she wouldn't do it here, not in front of the whole order. No matter how much she's changed I don't think she'd do something like that. My mind though, can't help itself. For one single moment I dream of what it could be like, that I could be there to pick up the pieces and she'd finally realise that she's been in love with me all this time. But then reality crashes down and all thoughts of living a happily ever after with Lilly are crushed under the worries of Voldemort and Dumbledore and war. I'm furious with myself for letting my emotions go, even if only for a moment. They only ever get me hurt I think bitterly. I rid the fantasy of me and Lily from my mind firmly telling myself that no, that will never happen. My heart though, will never give up.

What a dunderhead I think.

"Lily what are you saying?"

He looks worried. He should be. Lily's finally seen what I've tried and failed to show her all these years. James's true colours have finally shone through.

"You could pretend to care ... for me."

"I do care."

"Really?" I watch as she raises her eyes to meet his. There is only brutal honesty and sincerity in her gaze. She's too tired to be bothered to play games.

"I would've never have known."


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter.**

**Frohe Weihnachten, **Merry Christmas guys, sorry for the wait.****

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><p><em>Enter stranger, but take heed,<em>

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors,_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned beware,_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

I look at the famous words carved in to the cavernous halls of Gringotts bank as I step through the doors in to the main hall. The goblin run bank never fails to instil a sense of awe in me. Even today I can see the small yet deadly creates weighing out several carats worth of rubies and emeralds and diamonds. I remember the first time I came in to the bank with my parents, their jaws dropped at the blatant displays of wealth and power all around them. For them, Gringotts Bank was what made the magical world real. Before it had been turning a teacup in to a rat and making things float but to actually walk into the bank and see different living breathing talking creatures was something else entirely. Even the main bank itself is impressive with its marbled walls and floors. The grandeur of Gringotts bank is on par with Hogwarts, it is something truly magical.

"Next!"

"I'd like to speak to my account manager please."

The goblin looks at me and then down to the potter ring on my finger and shouts in gobbledygook to another goblin.

"Griphook will take you to him. Next!"

Griphook leads me through the dark tunnels that make up Gringotts and I wonder how he remembers where every tunnel leads. Hogwarts is huge but even with the constantly changing staircases and corridors it isn't nearly as complicated as the tunnels that run beneath the goblin bank.

We come to a stop at door embossed with the potter crest in red and real gold. No Hogwarts house system favouritism there I think wryly.

"Come in."

The door opens and I'm lead in to an office with an elderly goblin that seems not to have changed at all since I first met him. I briefly wonder how old he is before I remember I have more pressing matters to attend to.

"Lady Potter, sit down."

I take the offered seat gratefully and nod in greeting to aged goblin as he shoos Griphook from the room.

"What can I do for you today Lady Potter?"

Another damn order meeting on another damn day, where no ones done a damn thing about stopping damn Voldemort. Damn it all to hell, what am I even doing here?

While everyone drones on and on about the war and how terrible it all is, I count the amount of scuff marks I can see on the wall opposite and I think about what Bogrod said earlier in the bank.

I had gone to ask him if he had any records of when Harry last used his trust vault or the family vault. I had hopes that if he came to the bank quite frequently to draw money that I could catch him one day and speak with him.

Unfortunately though I found out that Harry had closed his trust vault at Gringotts London branch and transferred all his money over seas. Bogrod wouldn't tell me which bank as Harry was of age and it came under client confidentiality. I was however able to find out that before he had closed his trust vault he had gone in to the family vault and taken some money and a few family air looms and priceless rare books, nothing that had been used in the last century or so though so nobody would miss them.

Another dead end.

I swirl my glass of wine that James forced in to my hand before the meeting. I think there's a mild calming draught in it. Things have been strained between me and James lately. He's so busy with auror duties that it's rare I even see him. When I do see him things are so stilted that he usually leaves the room with an excuse about Dumbledore or Sirius or Charlie.

When the meeting's over and I make my way towards the floo, I feel another hand ever so lightly grab mine. It's only the briefest of contact but when they let go I look down and see a folded pice of parchment in my palm. I look up to a see a swirl of black robes flare out from their owner as he walks around the corner out of view.

Hours later I still hold the note, staring at it in the light of the fire. The parchment is worn and dog-eared. I can tell that he's spent many hours staring at this note folding it and unfolding it, trying to decide whether to give it to me or not. A decision that is similar to my own as I try to decide whether to throw the battered letter in to the fire or read whatever he felt was important enough to contact me after over two decades of not doing.

I turn the note over in my hands as I stare in to the fire. A small part of me just wants to destroy the letter and have done with it. It wants to throw the letter in to the flames and make him hurt like I did all those years ago when he called me that foul name. I want his heart to burn in his chest and his throat to be full of tears. Then I sigh, because no matter what I have become since the time I was a young girl, I have not lost my heart nor my hatred of revenge.

So slowly I unfold my reason for still being up at three in the morning and start to read the spidery cramped writing that I had always associated with my once best friend.

_Lily,_

_Harry works part time as a doctor at a muggle hospital in Norway, under the name Harrison Rosenburg. The apperation coordinates are on the back._

_Severus_

I suck in a breath so fast I choke. I almost don't dare to turn the note over. This is what I've been waiting for for a long time. I finally have a have a lead on where my lost son is. I don't question where Severus got the note from, I'm afraid to ask. I don't know why he did this for me but I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. I grin so wide my mouth hurts and when I finally fall asleep my dreams are peaceful and I feel more relaxed than I have done in months.

The next day almost as soon is James is gone, I run down to the boundary line of the property so I can apperate.

When the feeling of being squeezed through a tight tube stops, I open my eyes. I'm standing in front of the main doors of a muggle hospital just like Severus said I would and it's snowing. When I cancel the notice me not charm, put on because I didn't know where around the hospital I would end up, the automatic doors open and a gush of warm air washes over me.

I arrive at the front desk and the woman behind it speaks to me in a bored tone, not taking her eyes off of the computer screen in front of her. The short question she asks brings me up short. In my excitement and nervousness at seeing my eldest son for the first time in many years, I forgot that he lives in a different country, with a different language, that I don't know how to speak.

When I don't reply the woman looks up from the computer to my face and repeats the question.

"Dr. Harrison Rosenburg?" I ask hesitantly hoping that she might understand what I'm trying to ask her.

She tilts her head slightly for a moment confused, but then I can see the understanding dawn in her eyes and she types something in to the computer. When she has found what she was looking for she smiles triumphantly and walks over to the big sign behind her. She points at the floor and then holds up 3 fingers. She then taps some unfamiliar words and letters under the number three. I don't know what they mean but I memorise the way they look and nod my head. The receptionist smiles at me before going back to her desk.

When I get to the third floor I look around at the signs for the writing the receptionist showed me. I finally spot it on the furthest ward to my right and as I cross the threshold my heart jumps in to my throat. I take a few moments to calm down before continuing my search for Harry. This is it I think, I'm finally seeing my baby boy. My pace quickens as I walk around the ward and discreetly inspect the faces of all the doctors I come across. When I finally spot my son I'm virtually running.

I don't recognise him by his face or even his damnable potter hair, but by his posture and the way in which he holds himself. His back is to me but I can tell by the slouch of his shoulders and the way he holds his head. He's talking to a little girl as he stitches a nasty looking gash on her arm. As he speaks she smiles at him and when he laughs I relish in the sound of it. His voice is deeper than I remember it, but he still sounds the same. I wait, watching as he finishes his work. I drink in the sight of him.

When he finishes he talks to the girls parents and his head twitches in my direction, as if he knows someone's staring. I move from my place across the hallway to right outside the cubicle. When the girl and her parents leave, he finally turns around.

He's older I realise, the faint frown lines on his forehead and the days worth of stubble around his jaw. My little boy is not so little anymore. I knew he wouldn't be of course but thinking about it and seeing it are two different things. As he shifts under my gaze I notice a sparkle from his left hand and realise it came from the gold wedding band that sits there.

"You got married?" I say.

"Yeah...two almost two years ago" he replies uncertainly, still shocked at my presence.

I've missed so much. His wedding is just another one of my sons important mile stones that have gone unseen by me. I curse myself for being so absorbed in one child that I ignored the other.

"How did you find me?"

"Severus" I answer.

"I didn't know you two were speaking."

"We're not."

"You've grown up, you're taller than me now" and he is. He must be nearly 5'11 and his shoulders have broadened. He reminds me of my father. I wish he was here right now, he was always the one that I would go to for advice.

"I was taller than you before"

"I know, but it's more noticeable now."

When I can't take it anymore I step forwards to embrace him and he takes a step back.

"Why are you here?" His voice becomes cold, uncaring and his burn with anger. His words rip at my already weary heart and I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"I came to see you."

I try again to get near him but he pushes me away.

"Why, after all this time why now?"

"I just-"

"Did you finally remember you had another son?"

he starts to shout.

I'm not sure what to say.

"Did you come here to try and convince me to join the war effort like you and dad and Charlie? Do you want me to become another poster boy for the light 'potter brothers fight together' or something like that?"

"N-no I-"

"I don't care! I'm not having this conversation again so you can go back and tell Dumbledore or dad or whoever else put you up to coming and tell them to leave me alone."

"Harry" I reach forward to touch his trembling hand but he pulls it from my reach.

"I don't care, I don't care what you have to say! It's too late, it's too late! I hate you! You should leave, leave and never come back! Go back to precious Charlie and go back to pretending I never existed! It shouldn't be too hard for you, you managed four years, what's another forty?"

"Harry no it's not like that!"

"Well tell me what it's like then! Tell me, what good reason you had for pretending I didn't exist, why from the time I turned eleven I stopped mattering, why you stopped caring!"

"Harry please!" I beg.

"Well go on!"

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I don't have an excuse for what I did, for the pain I inflicted on my eldest son. I want to tell him I'm sorry but I know it won't do any good, actions speak louder than words and I abandoned him. I'm a terrible mother.

He sneers at me "what got nothing to say? I bet I could tell you why, it was all about Charlie, he would always come first and nothing I ever did was ever half as good as _his_ achievements. Killing a dark lord? Really, I don't even know why I tried and when I finally realised the truth, I _stopped_ trying. I stopped trying to impress you and show you all the new magic I'd learnt at school. It didn't make a difference anyway, you didn't even notice. I'd come to expect that type of behaviour from James, but from _you_? I thought you'd always have my back. Do you remember that? In my first year when I came back from Durmstrang and showed you all that I'd learnt over the year and James had wanted to take my wand off of me so I couldn't practise any 'dark' magic under his roof. Do you remember what you said? You said it didn't matter that James wasn't impressed or proud of me and what I could do because you were proud enough for the both of you, that I wasn't really missing out on anything at all, because you loved me enough for both you _and_ James. Do you remember that?"

He says the last part almost desperately, imploring me to remember that time long ago when I'd comforted him in my arms, trying to protect his heart from James's hurtful words.

The tears that I'd been trying to hold at bay spill over on to my cheeks at the memory.

"I remember, I remember and I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." I cover my mouth to try and stop my sobs.

"I don't care. I don't want your apologies, I want you to have been there when I needed you."

"I want you to leave."

I plead with him through blurry eyes but he stares me down until I lower my gaze but I don't leave. If he wants to be rid of my presence he's going to have to be the one to walk away this time, I've already turned my back on him enough. Finally a nurse comes up to him and hand him a file, when she walks down the corridor, he follows.

As I leave the hospital I catch my reflection in the glass doors. I see the woman that stares back at me, her face tired and her eyes puffy and red from tears. I look like hell. How did I get here? How did it ever get so bad? What happened to the young beautiful girl that fought for freedom and equality and peace? What happened to the girl that thought everything could be fixed with love?

'She grew up' I think mournfully and I grieve for the loss of her innocence. By the time I make it outside I'm sobbing. I sob for the ghost of the girl I once was and I sob at her stupidity for letting one of the most important things that ever happened to her slip through her fingers.

Somehow I make it to the park across the street and I sit down on a wet wooden bench. I sit there for hours until I can no longer feel my feet or my hands and I watch as the snow comes in heavier and heavier flurries until I can no longer see any thing but white. I wish I was a snowflake, the wind would cradle me in its icy current and take me somewhere I wouldn't have to know, wouldn't have to care that my son hated me. I would just be and then when the sun appeared I wouldn't.

Even all the magic in the world can't turn me in to a snowflake though, so I close my eyes and imagine somewhere that my son hating me won't matter. Then I apperate.

When I open my eyes next I'm stood outside a familiar house. The orange street lights flicker quietly. Pushing open the gate I walk towards the door that I've seen many times but never stepped through.

As I stand on the top step the door opens. He doesn't say anything and neither do I. We are two long lost friends who don't know what to do next. Finally he opens the door wider to let me in and I walk past him in to his childhood home.

The living room is small and there are books in stacks all over the floor, on shelves and tables. The wallpaper is mottled from age and is peeling in places. I'm not really bothered about the room though, only about the man that's in it.

He doesn't ask what I'm doing here and I doubt he cares. I never thought I'd speak to him again.

"He was there" I croak, my voice hoarse from the cold.

He nods but still doesn't speak. I know that he already knows how the visit went. If it went well I wouldn't be here, I'd be home with James and both my boys playing happy families. Instead I'm here, alone, with him.

He strides over to the fire and crouches down to add some more logs. I admire that about him, the way he still does things by hand and not with magic. I miss doing things the muggle way. When Harry was younger, before Hogwarts, I used to tell him all about the muggle world and what it was like to not know magic existed. I used to take him out on visits to London, it was our little secret. Sometimes we'd go out to the cinema or do some shopping or sometimes we'd just sit and watch the world go by.

James could never appreciate the muggle world or take it serious enough and even though I never said anything, his mockery hurt. It was his unwillingness to try anything not magical because he thought it was _inferior_ that stung. For all his show of supporting muggles and muggleborns, he doesn't know anything about them. Is it any wonder Voldemort has such vast amounts of supporters when even light families like James's think that muggles aren't anything more than talking animals?

Severus notices me watching him and he straightens up. we stare at each other some more until the tension in the room is so thick you can practically swim in it. I don't know what to say so instead I just act.

I cross the small living room in two strides until we're so close that we're breathing the same air. I look deeply into his eyes, eyes that are filled with confusion and an age old longing. Slowly and gently but with all the surety in the world I cup his face and bring his lips down to mine.

I notice the difference in lips. James's confident full ones to Severus's thin hesitant ones. I don't mind, they feel strange, but good against my own.

He pulls away. " Lily you're freezing!"

I notice he isn't saying 'no'.

"Warm me up then" I whisper as I press my lips back to his.

I know I should stop. That I'm betraying James, that this is cruel. But I can't help it. He's there for me in ways James isn't and he's been waiting forever for me to give him this moment. He surrenders to me.

I need this.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: Yes, Lilys having a mid life crisis!<strong>


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